Volume 1 Issue 6 With Great Power
by Serial Spider
Summary: A shorter issue, chronicling Peter's first night on the town with his new abilities.


Serial Spider

6/23/08

**MINOR NOTE:** I know I haven't been saying much towards this, but commentary/reviews/critiques/questions/discussions/whatev would be really appreciated towards any of the issues. Thanks for being such good readers!

_Issue Six_

"_With Great Power"_

Peter woke up in a sweat. It wasn't the ordinary I just ran a mile in my nightmares sort of sweat. It was like all the water inside of his body was pouring out, liquidating him until he was a melted puddle. He leapt out of the drenched sheets towards the carpeted floor.

And by leapt, it is to say that he flew.

Peter shot right up to the wall beside his bed, his hand smacking against it. The impact startled him, his hair just skimming the ceiling. He skittered to stay up, afraid of falling back down, and his other hand was suddenly pressed against the paint.

Something cool and tacky was holding him up. He dangled from the wall by one arm, looking out at the room, feet hanging over the carpet by about three feet. Very slowly, the tacky fluid began to dissolve and he slid safely to the floor, his feet landing lightly upon the ground.

"What. The. Fuck," Peter said, quite loudly.

His mind was racing. In about ten seconds he'd bounded halfway across his room, stuck to a wall, and slid to the floor; what was going on?

Everything felt different. Everything _looked_ different.

Which is to say that it looked right.

Peter's glasses were still on the night stand. But he could see. Perfectly.

No, better than perfectly. And if that was the case, then the stud in the mirror was Peter. But Peter was dumbfounded. He hadn't looked like that _before_ he climbed into bed. But now… now he was _jacked_. A complete understatement, but he didn't know how else to put it.

Puny Parker was now a beast.

His mind was racing. He looked at the clock. It was five in the morning. It was still night in Manhattan. He moved to the window, but then turned around and grabbed his sweatshirt, tugging it over his pajamas.

He put his hand to the wall beside the window and pressed. A strange gray substance oozed from his palm, and as he pulled, he realized it was a glue. His body had manufactured glue.

What a fantastic dream this was turning out to be.

The glue crumbled quickly away, just dust in the air after seconds. Peter opened the window.

He looked outside, leaned over the sill to stare at the ground below. He put his hands to the stucco wall beneath him and pressed.

His hand stuck. He put out the other, a little lower. It stuck too. He worked his way down, finding he could do the same strange sticking action with his feet.

And Peter Parker spider-climbed his way out of his bedroom and into the night.

* * *

"Hey, Peter," Eddie said to the answering machine, yawning into his cellphone as he opened the door to his apartment. "It's Eddie Brock, from the lab. Sorry. I dunno if the ringer woke you up, but uh, just needed to inform you of somethin'." He yawned again, looking into his parents' room and then rushing quietly into his own. "There was an incident at the lab. I know this is gonna sound ridiculous, but can you just check your belongings for a spider? He could have gotten into a backpack or pocket or anything. Odds are he could be anywhere in the city at this point; could have just crawled right out of the building. We have no idea how he got out, but he's one of the enhanced species from the Viral DNA lab, and God forbid anybody or any animal came in contact with this thing; I mean it could be lethal for all the study we've done. Look, I'm rambling, and this is gonna cut me off, but just gimme a ring if anything turns up. Thanks bro. Night."

* * *

Peter sat on top of an inner city apartment building, dangling his legs over the roof edge. Below, steam rolled from gutters and the occasional car headlight skimmed the streets.

But none of it could touch him from his perch atop the world.

Unable to contain himself any longer, he leapt backwards, did a back flip he didn't know he could do, and began to do the last thing that Peter Parker should _ever_ have done.

Peter Parker began to dance.

Which is to say that Peter moved like a dying fish. He flailed his arms in every which way, hearing five different songs in his head at once, clashing their tempos and rhythms into a hideous excuse for motion.

And then the hairs on Peter's neck stood up.

Before he crashed into a ventilation duct. Now, on any ordinary day, Peter would have earned a migraine to last through his twenties. But instead, the duct collapsed like cardboard under his weight, and he landed atop it, rolling off gracefully.

"What is going on?" he asked, backing up. He hadn't even bruised.

And then his phone beeped. The sheer volume of everything happening at once had his heart thundering forward.

He opened the phone.

"You have 1 new voicemail."

Peter pressed Send, dialed his password, and held it up to his ear.

Eddie Brock's message chilled Peter to the bone. He could see the moment in one gloriously clear flash.

"_Ouch!" he had cried, slapping his other hand on top of the spider, splattering bug against palm. "Jesus Christ!" he said, rubbing the mess over his pants. "Damn mosquitoes."_

But of course it had never been a mosquito. After all, no other ones had bothered him in days. No, Peter knew instinctively that the bite he had on the back of his hand was the mark of a genetically enhanced spider.

He started to dial Eddie's number, but then slowed his fingers until he had completely resigned. It was time to evaluate the situation.

As bizarre as it was, Peter knew without any doubt that he had been bitten by the same spider Eddie was talking about. And he had long since realized this wasn't a dream. So in his genetics was what? Enhanced Spider DNA?

So he could stick to things effortlessly. He could jump further. He was built with super strength. His vision was perfect. What would happen if he called that in to the lab? Was there anything that Doc Connors or Eddie could do? Probably not. Maybe they'd give him an anti-serum. But then, what? He'd be Puny Parker all over again.

Flash Thompson's punching bag, a… a weakling.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He never stole the spider.

So what if he pretended to know nothing? He could just keep it a secret. He could cover it all easily. Stories, lies, a web of deceit so easily came to the surface of his imagination.

Peter Parker could pull off, effortlessly, a cover-up for one of the greatest advancements in the history of science:

Himself.

And he intended to do it.


End file.
